You don't know me
by Atheniandream
Summary: Drowning of the sorrows, and hiding people..


Title: You don't know me  
Author: atheniandream/Jawbreakerchick/Paisleychick, my alter egos :)  
Email: atheniandream@aol.com  
Content Warnings: Angst, Romance, other stuf!!! ohhh read it  
Pairings: Sam/Jack,   
Spoilers: NONE I think, maybe all and most importantly recent knowledge on their relationship.....  
Season: Six/7?  
Rating: PG-13 maybe a lil' more.  
Summary: Drowning of the sorrows, and hiding people...  
Author's notes: Was listening to Jann Arden's you don't know me,   
But not a SONGFIC!!! HATE EM!!  
Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of   
Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA,  
Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is   
for entertainment purposes only and no money  
exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original   
characters, situations, and story are the property  
of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the   
consent of the author.  
  
Like to put you in the middle as usual... Athena HEHEHE!!!  
  
YOU DON'T KNOW ME  
================================================  
  
"Thank you." She motioned idly to the barman, flicking her hand from her wrist and lazily grabbing   
each of the four vodka shots and downing them, trying to not wretch at the distaste clinging to the  
back of her throat. God it tasted like a mix of paint and lighter fluid. She might as well have drunk a   
bottle of that for easily half the price...  
  
'You give your hand to me  
And then you say hello  
And I can hardly speak'  
'My heart is beating so  
  
What was she doing her??  
The obvious and desperate 'Drowning of the sorrows'  
Why?  
Because she had to be, or so she thought, the only 35 year old woman who was single in Colorado.  
Spinster twice over, and may as well be celibate.  
Hell, she was the black widow of earth dammit,   
God if she were a Goa'uld, the damage she'd cause...........That didn't even bare thinking about.  
  
'And anyone can tell  
You think you know me well  
But you don't know me....'  
  
Motioning to the man in front of her, she ordered another round.  
"Give my a double." Almost resisting urge to wretch, she took in a long breath, and folded her coat   
tighter about her.  
She felt a million light years worse than she looked, *apparently*.  
Because the good old Colonel Jack O'Neill didn't think there was anything wrong with her...Oh no.   
  
'No you don't know the one  
Who dreams of you at night  
And longs to kiss your lips  
Longs to hold you tight'  
  
"Major Samantha Carter, P.H.Deedee in theo'wetical' astro-fish-sticks, is always fine!" She shouted   
to herself,   
"God forbid that I be annoyed or angry or in lo..." she topped momentarily,   
Feeling yet another urge to either blurt out something entirely irrational and also belch   
unprofessionally.  
Pushing back the laced burp, she continued.  
"To heeell with professionalism......I-just-want-to-fu-"  
"Carter? What are doing here?"  
She wavered, looking up at him briefly, her motorised functions not really getting there in time, and   
losing all control of what she was about to say.  
"Oh look, Sir." Well not all of the professionalism had gone...A little bit, maybe..   
The look on his face-A little between angry and worried-told him that this was a little verging on bad.  
All he said to her was:   
  
{"Carter Get a life. Look, go out get a boyfriend, before they all die on ya, okay?"}  
  
So he was in a bad mood, what gives....?  
  
"Carter," Okay, so judging by her past, it was a bad move....okay,  
But she never goes out. "Look, I meant it in a nice way..."  
Her head started to swim a tad, and verging on passing out, she lightly rested her head in her hands,   
Trying not to make the room spin.  
"Nice! That was....urghh." She groaned.  
If only *he* would stop making the room spinning,   
"I'm sorry okay, I was...insensitive."  
Nope. Still spinning.  
"Ya think?" Was all she said.  
*He* was still focused on the 'saying sorry' part, and not the actual 'Help Sam from spewing all over  
the bar' part.  
"I'm sorry, Carter." His tone was calm, warm and most of all meaningful.  
It was almost nice.  
"But what I say stands."   
Almost.   
"What?" She started to feel sick again, and was failing to concentrate on the muddy figure sat beside   
her.  
"You need a boyfriend, Sam."  
"What?" Oh she heard that all right, and it made her snap like a tightly wound-up jack-in-a-box.  
"I can't!!! I can't believe you just said that!" And if he didn't watch out he'd wind up as one big stupid   
Jack-in-a-box....  
  
'Oh I am just a friend  
That's all I've ever been  
Cause you don't know me'  
  
"You don't know me at all, do you?" She hissed through now completely blurred vision, and in return   
had to grab the back of her bar stool from falling.  
"That's," She poked a wobbly finger into his chest." A typical Jacky thing to say." Her eyes failed to   
leave his.   
Although it was more to do with inebriation than anything else.  
  
Now *he* was confused.  
"What?" Laughing at her he grab her waist immediately to keep her from falling completely off of her   
seat.   
"Whoa, how much have you had to drink, Carter?"  
Wait a minute? 'Jack'?  
"In cubic centimetres? A teensy weensy, itty bitty, lil' bit!!!" She completely left her angry tone and   
giggled again, causing for another close-call on the 'Can drunk Carter sit on the stool'-o-meter.  
His hands came around her this time, now completely unaware and uncaring of his   
regulation-stretching actions.  
"Why do this to yourself Carter?"  
"Because..." She stood up abruptly, almost whacking a passer-by in the face and shouted.   
"..I am 35 years old. And Alone! I'm going to go through my life, never getting one single relationship,   
not to mention on single F*C*!"  
She received many assorted looks from the people standing around them.  
"Keep it down Lady!" Came one of the more meagre replies.  
Jack's voice and eye line had already darted immediately to her. Embarrassed and feeling the need to   
show his masculinity, he grabbed her and her 'tortured soul' and chose to be 'the man'.  
"Major Carter, we're going home!" He replied calmly, taking her hand safely in his.  
She became so shocked at the feel of his fingers wrapped around her that she didn't do a single thing.  
  
No protest, No excuse, not hitting, No shouting,  
Nothing.  
Well maybe a little giggle for effect.  
  
'I never knew the art of making love  
No my heartaches with love for you  
Afraid and shy I let my chance go by  
The chance that you might love me too'  
  
He pushed her into his car.  
"What about mine? Do I have one?" She asked in almost 'dog-pitch', leading to a giggle in her own  
temporal insomnia.  
"You'll be picking that up in mornin' missy." He toyed with her like this. Femininely drunk and   
innocently child-like.  
He'd forgotten to really look at her, as he stepped into the driver's seat.  
Crawling in the corner of her seat.  
Trying to stop her head from spinning.  
And trying to remember why. Why she was......what was it again?  
She really was beautiful, you know.  
Even if she was drunk.  
He turned on the radio, hoping that it would stop her from speaking, or stop him from taking   
advantage...  
  
'You give your hand to me  
And then you say goodbye  
I watch you walk away beside the lucky guy  
Oh you will never know  
The one who loves you so  
Well you don't know me....'  
  
=======================  
=======================  
  
Finally the journey was over, he thought as they turned up to her house.  
She hadn't said a word, just leaning against the window, every now and then closing her eyes.  
"Carter?"  
He touched her face gently, feeling the coolness of her skin in contrast to her hot, vodka-laden breath.  
She spoke quietly, almost a whisper, barley audible. "I'm going to be alone forever."  
"What? Oh, no you're not."  
"Yea I am. I have a boyfriend death wish."  
He couldn't help but laugh, but let he continue, not that he could have stopped her.  
"Every guy I've ever loved or even considered as a boyfriend died. I'm cursed. It's a fact."  
He couldn't help but be jabbed by the comment.  
"What about me, Carter?"  
She turned to look at him, then burst into tears.  
"You're gonna DIE!!!" Her voice drone in a panic of irrationally comical tears.  
"Aw, Carter I'm not gonna die."  
He pulled her as far into his grasp as the gearshift would let him.  
She gently leaned in.  
Neither allowing nor disallowing him to just,  
Comfort her.  
"Promise?"  
"Yes....we O'Neills don't croak that easily, remember?"  
Well that wasn't completely true, but it'd do, for now.  
"I love you Jack." She replied watery and still in her drunkenness.  
So in her drunkenness he chose to take it as such.  
A drunken comment.  
No More, No little.  
  
He walked around the other side of the Car, holding her forearm as she shut the car door and   
attempted to walk.  
God, her head hurt bad...  
"You gonna be okay getting' up there?"  
"No." She answered with a dry laugh, still needing his support as she clambered u to the porch.  
"Need some help?"  
"Yep."  
"Okay." he replied, trying once again to keep her walking and not succeeding at her best efforts to   
ground the both of them on the front porch.  
  
'You give your hand to me  
And then you say goodbye  
I watch you walk away beside the lucky guy  
Oh you will never know  
The one who loves you so,'  
  
==============================  
  
He stood to see her walking down the other end of the hall towards him.  
"Feel better?" He motioned to her change of clothes, and the overly better expression on her face.  
"Kinda." She replied. "Although, still drunk." She rolled her eyes at her own admittance.  
Whether it was admittance of the situation or her actions wasn't really the point now.  
"Here," He slid the mug over to her side of the counter. "God's best remedy for irrational   
drunkenness."  
"I wasn't irrational!" her voice picked up, justifying herself. "You don't know me,"  
  
'Cause you don't know me'  
  
"You keep saying that."  
"It's true. You see Major Carter. She doesn't moan about love. Hair. Clothes. Boyfriends, and having  
to shave all the time."   
An over share, anyone?  
"You don't see all that. But when you said that to me. You did see. You saw Sam. Who just wants to   
love and be loved."  
  
'Oh no you don't know me'  
  
"That's why you don't know me. Because I never show it. Me. The real me." Her eyes blinked in   
frankness, as she went back to quiet reflection and the sipping of her coffee.  
She wanted to be Sam, just once.  
  
'OOhh...you don't know me'  
  
He contemplated her impassioned explanation.  
And came to a decision,   
That, as life altering as it could be,  
Was the only way out.  
The only way to save Sam, so that she didn't die to Major Carter, The fighter and Brainiack.  
  
"I want to *get*, to know 'Sam'. He hesitated at her expression.  
You've got the most unbelievable blue eyes I ever seen...  
"I mean, I fell in love with Major Carter easy. It shouldn't be too hard." A flicker of an impish smile   
curved the side of his face.  
"Good." She still doubted the alcohol in her system, which was creating a marble floor space of her   
emotions right now.   
But hey what's to lose? "Everything," She mumbled to herself, which he caught the tail end of.  
"What?"   
"Oh, nothing." She smiled at him, trying to fight away the banging in her head. "So?" She raised her   
mug at him.   
"To Sam?"  
"Yea," He smiled, "To Sam....and Jack." He winked at their toast.  
  
Maybe he didn't know her.  
Sam.   
But he wanted to find out.  
  
And that was more powerful than any drug...  
Almost as powerful as love...  
  
Likey?  
No Likey?  
FEEEEEEEED me!  
I'd like to know if it's cr*p, really!!  
  
Athena :) The song was JANN ARDEN'S 'YOU DON'T KNOW ME' 


End file.
